


Touched by an Angel

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, But not in a Tentadick way, Established Relationship, Humor, In the opposite Way, Inhuman Genitalia, Insecurity, M/M, Object Insertion, Podfic Welcome, Shyan Scavenger Hunt, angel!shane, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 18:44:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15891852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Ryan wants to get it on. Shane does too. There's just one little thing getting in the way.





	Touched by an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> so this fills the prompt 'object insertion' for sept's scavenger hunt! this is the silliest thing i've written for this fandom, i think, and honestly, it's not as weird as it could be. but it was a lot of fun to write! a disclaimer that i, like ryan, have not seen _dogma_ in at least a decade, so anything i say about it could very well be wrong. additional disclaimer that i'm in no way religious so my description of angel!shane is not only vague but also just a shot in the dark. 
> 
> anyway, big thanks to hannah for beta'ing, of course!!
> 
> enjoy!!

Ryan takes Shane being an angel…. surprisingly well, actually.

It probably helps that Shane didn’t reveal his true form, what with the hundreds of eyes and dozens of limbs. Instead, Shane had only shown off his glimmering white wings and the otherworldly glow of his halo. Ryan was shocked, sure, but he hadn’t screamed, or fled, or fainted. Instead, he just reached out with shaking hands, cupped Shane’s cheeks, and kissed him while heavenly light fell around them like a shroud.

So yeah, Ryan’s really been taking the whole thing in stride. It’s more than Shane could’ve ever asked for. Ryan asks a lot of questions but Shane is happy to answer as many as he can—he’s yet to spill the beans on whether or not demons and ghosts are real, mainly because it drives Ryan batty. But stuff like the creation of Earth, or what Heaven is like, those sorts of questions Shane doesn’t mind answering. (Well, except for the times Ryan wakes him up at ungodly hours to ask this shit. Then Shane minds.)

The whole being-an-angel thing doesn’t really impact their day-to-day life. They still go to work, still check out haunted locations, still go home together as Ryan accumulates more and more shit at Shane’s apartment. Shane’s yet to broach the subject of Ryan moving in with him, but they’re getting there, neither aided or hindered by the fact Shane is an angel. They still eat dinner and they still binge bad movies on Netflix while sitting on Shane’s incredibly comfortable couch.

They still kiss, too. They make out like teenagers, a lot. Embarrassingly often, if Shane’s being honest.

But it’s getting clear that Ryan wants more. And why shouldn’t he? He’s a human, with a very human libido. Shane’s felt the stiffness of Ryan’s cock against his hip when they’re slotted together on the couch, and he wants to help. He wants to touch Ryan and make him come, make him _scream_ Shane’s name.

He just… hasn’t. Yet.

For several reasons.

Namely because he hasn’t shown Ryan his glamorless naked self, and that includes the lack of a pretty distinct appendage. It’s not that he thinks Ryan will be _unhappy_ with his body, or anything. Maybe a little disappointed, but not in a way they couldn’t get past. They’d figure it out. Shane’s figured it out with past lovers, Ryan wouldn’t be any different.

He’s just a little nervous, alright? He likes Ryan, probably more than he should given that he’s destined to live for eternity and Ryan has less than a half century left, at best. But he likes Ryan in a way he hasn’t liked anyone else in a millennium. Shane would maybe go so far as to say he _loves_ Ryan, deeply and desperately.

 

 

Shane finally gets over his hang-ups on an especially dull Unsolved shoot.

No demons jump out and terrorize them and the few lingering ghosts just stare disdainfully at Shane before floating on. Ryan only screams five times, two of which are Shane’s fault, which has got to be a new record for least number of screams at any location.

The night passes without incident. Shane sleeps like a baby and Ryan only wakes him up three times, all of which are with his wiggling and snoring, not because he’s freaked out. Shane would call the whole thing a moderate success, if not for the way Ryan looks so put-out as they pack everything up the following morning.

“Sorry, little guy,” Shane says as they shove stuff into the back of the rental car. “Maybe next time.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees with a sigh. “This place was just…” He trails off as he looks over his shoulder at the looming house.

His disappointment is not only palpable, but understandable. The house itself is pretty intimidating: decrepit and spooky, everything a haunted house should look like from the outside. And judging from the history Ryan had regaled him with, the house is touted as a hotspot of activity.

For the first time ever, Shane is actually disappointed, too.

Shane ambles over and swings an arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “C’mon,” he says as he steers Ryan to the passenger’s seat. “I’ll drive. Let’s go crash for the day, yeah?”

“I wanted to check out some tourist trap stuff.” Ryan’s tone is petulant and Shane can’t help but kiss him. Ryan melts into it; he leans against the side of the car and tugs Shane close to him.

“We’ll extend the trip a day,” Shane says. “Call HQ while I drive.” Shane leans back and lets his hands fall from Ryan’s hips.

“Okay,” Ryan says slowly. “Yeah sure.”

Shane walks around the car as Ryan gets into the passenger’s seat. Shane takes a few minutes to adjust the driver’s seat and even after he’s fiddled with it for five minutes, it’s still a cramped fit. By the time he’s mostly comfortable, Ryan’s got them another night in their hotel room, their flight moved to the following evening, and their bosses wishing them a fun trip.

“Not bad,” Shane says as he finally pulls away from the curb. TJ and Mark have long since abandoned them, and Ryan’s texting them frantically. “We can head back to the hotel, get some rest, and then be annoying tourists all day tomorrow.”

Ryan smiles sideways at him. “Yeah. Thanks.”

The rest of the drive passes in companionable silence, and a plan forms in Shane’s mind. They leave the least important and least valuable stuff in the car and haul the rest inside. TJ and Mark are waiting for them and help lug everything up to one of the rooms. As they go, Ryan explains they’re staying another day, which TJ and Mark are thankfully fine with.

“We’re gonna go find lunch,” TJ says as Shane opens the door to his and Ryan’s shared room. “You wanna come with?”

Ryan opens his mouth but Shane cuts across. “Nah, we’re good. Bring us back some burgers or something.”

TJ nods and then he and Mark are gone. Ryan turns and flashes Shane a confused look.

“Thought we could use some time together,” Shane explains. He motions for Ryan to get into the room first, then kicks the door shut behind them. “Just the boys.”

Ryan rolls his eyes affectionately. “Okay.” He shrugs out of his jacket and beanie cap. “What’re we gonna do? Cuddle and watch some shitty local news?” He digs around in his bag for a second and pulls out his toiletry bag and hairbrush, setting them on the nearby dresser.

Shane leaves his suitcase by the door and takes three long strides up to Ryan. Ryan stumbles away from the dresser as Shane advances on him. He crowds him against the edge of the bed with a predatory grin. “No,” he answers simply. “Not what I had in mind.”

Ryan shudders. “Okay,” he exhales slowly. “Yeah, that—that sounds good.”

Shane peels off his own jacket and tosses it aimlessly behind him. “Take your clothes off,” he commands quietly. He steps back to toe off his shoes but otherwise doesn’t disrobe, while Ryan scrambles to obey his command. Clothes fly in odd directions like a bad cartoon, but Ryan spread out on the bed, naked, is the furthest thing from funny.

Shane takes a moment to stare and Ryan preens under his attention. He turns away long enough to find one of their duffel bags where he knows a packet of lube is stashed in a side pocket. Ryan lets out a slightly bubbly laugh at the sight of the little plastic packet as Shane dangles it between his fingers.

“Boy scout,” Shane declares as he returns to the bed.

“Bullshit,” Ryan retorts, a familiar refrain.

Shane tosses the lube onto the bed. “Get yourself ready. I need to grab something else.” Ryan looks a little confused but is eager to obey regardless. He grabs the packet of lube and dribbles enough to coat two fingers. Shane watches Ryan spread his legs but looks away before he can see one of Ryan’s fingers breach his tight little hole.

Head spinning, Shane ducks into the attached bathroom. He doesn’t shut the door behind him but he relishes the privacy nonetheless. He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror and tries to mellow out his breathing. He looks down his body and lingers over his crotch, where nothing presses at the front of his jeans like it ought to. He still feels lust and pleasure, he just doesn’t have any sort of… physical indicator.

Shane shakes off the faint stupor and grabs the first thing he sees: a long shampoo bottle, thick as two of his own fingers. He nods to himself and exits the bathroom quietly. He listens to Ryan’s soft gasps and the wet noises of fingers plunging into his ass; a shiver runs up Shane’s spine, and not for the first time he wishes he had a cock of his own.

But, no such luck. How’s that one meme go? Country boys make do?

He looks at the shampoo bottle in his hand. Yeah, they do.

As he approaches the bed, he spots Ryan’s weirdly nice hairbrush sitting on the dresser. It’s wooden and gleams a 0pretty chestnut color. The handle is wider at the bottom and tapers as it approaches the bristles. It’ll be a good starter, maybe.

Shane grabs that too, and then he finally returns to the bed.

Ryan is flushed and breathing heavy. “About time,” he pants. “Thought I was gonna have to do this by myself.”

“Nope,” Shane says as he clambers onto the bed between Ryan’s spread thighs. He drops the shampoo bottle and hairbrush beside Ryan’s quivering thigh. “I’m here, baby.”

His tone is teasing but it gets to Ryan anyway: he moans softly and arches his back. “What’re those for?” Ryan asks, eyes fluttering, as he nods at the bottle and brush.

Shane swallows. “Uh. For us.”

Ryan’s fingers, still fucking into his hole, slow down and the squelching stops. “What?”

“For us,” Shane says again. “To fuck you with.”

Ryan’s brow furrows. “Why are you going to fuck me with a shampoo bottle?”

Shane sighs. “Have you ever seen the movie _Dogma_?”

Ryan lets out a shrill, hysterical laugh. _“What?”_

“The movie _Dogma_ , have you seen it?”

“Yeah, not like in, I dunno, ten years. But yeah, I’ve seen it.”

“Right. So, uh, Alan Rickman, right?”

“Right.”

“He doesn’t have a dick.”

“Alan Rickman didn’t have a dick?” Ryan asks dazedly.

“Oh my god, Ryan.” Shane sits back on his knees and tilts his head to the ceiling. “No. _Not_ what I’m saying.”

“Well what _are_ you saying?” Ryan’s fingers fall from his hole and he sits up. His expression has morphed to something that looks like a half-glare and half-pout, and it’s as cute as it is annoying.

“I’m saying _I_ don’t have a dick, _dick_.”

Silence settles over the room. Ryan’s still breathing heavy but it’s nothing to the rushing sound of panic in Shane’s ears. There, he’s said it, no turning back now. Ryan can either take it or leave it. Hopefully he’ll take it, cuz Shane _really_ doesn’t want to sleep on the metaphorical couch, or something.

“I can see you freaking out inside your head,” Ryan says softly. He reaches for Shane with his clean hand. “Okay, so you don’t have a dick. That’s fine.”

Shane blinks. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Is it cuz of the whole… ‘holy being’ thing?”

Shane nods.

“Makes sense,” Ryan says with a shrug. He lays back and pillows his hands on his stomach. He’s still half-hard, which feels like a positive sign. “So, you’re going to fuck me with a shampoo bottle, instead.”

“That’s the plan,” Shane agrees. “Although I was thinking of starting with the hairbrush.”

“You didn’t like, pack a dildo, or anything?”

“I didn’t exactly plan this.” Shane scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck. “You just looked so bummed after last night’s shoot.”

“And you thought a good hard dicking would cheer me up,” Ryan says, nodding. “Again, makes sense. I appreciate it, even.”

Shane rubs a hand over his face; his laugh is genuine but also a little embarrassed. “I really didn’t think this through.”

Ryan knees him gently in the side. “No, c’mon, show me what you got, Madej. Fuck me with that bottle. Don’t even think of touching my hairbrush, that thing is _fancy_.” He plants his feet on the bed and spreads his legs wide. “I’m lubed up and ready.”

“This is—this isn’t sexy,” Shane says as he reaches for the shampoo bottle. He holds it up for Ryan to see: it’s long and cylindrical, thick as two of Shane’s fingers and maybe five inches long, if he had to guess.

Ryan shrugs. “Sexy is what you make it.” He reaches out and smears the excess lube on his hand onto the shampoo bottle, then drops his hand to his cock. “Show me what you got,” he says again.

Shane nods. He gets lost in watching Ryan jerk off for a few seconds before another knee to his ribs has him moving. He reaches down and pulls Ryan’s cheeks apart to expose his slick hole. A rush of heat floods Shane’s body, and even though it looks totally ridiculous, Shane’s arousal flares up at the sight of the soft blue bottle against Ryan’s flushed skin.

“Any day now,” Ryan sing-songs.

Shane rolls his eyes and starts to push. Ryan’s hole is loose enough to open up under the intrusion but tightens around the bottle like a vice. The tapered top where the cap sits almost works as a handle, and Shane clings to it. He pushes the bottle in two inches then stops.

“How’s it feel?” He asks, finally tearing his eyes away from the sight of Ryan clenching around the bottle to look at Ryan’s face instead.

“Not bad, actually,” Ryan moans. His eyes are shut and his mouth hangs open. “I’d prefer it not to be a bottle of shampoo, but it’s not the worst thing I’ve had up my ass, by any means.”

“ _That_ sounds like a story you need to tell me, some other time.”

Ryan groans, not in a sexy way. “Shane, I swear to _god_ —!”

Shane pushes the bottle in another inch and effectively shuts Ryan up. He pulls the bottle out, then presses back in; he repeats the motion a few times until Ryan is writhing and clenching tighter around the bottle. Ryan rolls his hips in attempt to get the bottle deeper, and the combination of Ryan’s wriggling with the slipperiness of the lube causes Shane to lose his grip.

For a split second, he’s worried the bottle is just—just going to go _in_ , and that would fucking _suck_. So Shane scrambles for the shampoo to make sure it doesn’t end up lodged inside his boyfriend; he catches it by the cap, thankfully, but in doing so he manages to open the fucking bottle, too.

“Why does,” Ryan pants. “Why does it suddenly smell like a garden, in here?”

Shane watches the shampoo leak sluggishly onto the sheets. “Uh.”

“Take it out.” Ryan’s body relaxes and Shane hurries to obey. He caps the bottle even as it smears the bluish gooey liquid over his fingers, then sets it aside. “That was a bad idea from the start.” Ryan cranes his neck to look at the blue mess on the sheets between his legs.

“Yeah,” Shane says, vaguely apologetic.

“I need to shower.” Ryan sits up and scoots away from Shane so that he can swing his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m too sticky.” He shudders as shampoo slides down his leg. Shane stifles his laugh by biting on his tongue. “Next time, we’re packing a dildo.”

“Yeah,” Shane says again. “Way better plan.” He twists to watch Ryan walk around the edge of the bed and make a beeline for the bathroom. The room really stinks like the overly fragrant shampoo, and the sheets are stained with the soap, and Ryan looks like a mess. His hair is sticking out in all directions and his lower half is a mix of precome across his stomach with lube and shampoo between his thighs.

“You coming?” Ryan asks as he stops at the threshold of the bathroom.

“What?” Shane climbs off the bed regardless and walks over to Ryan as if in a trance.

“You’re gonna shower with me, right?” Ryan’s eyelashes flutter.

“I can,” Shane hedges. “If you want. I thought you might wanna get off, in there.”

“You’ve got fingers, don’t you?”

Shane waggles his shampoo-and-lube-sticky fingers for emphasis.

“Great, then come on.” Ryan walks away and then the sounds of the shower starting fill the hotel room. “Either get in here and fuck my ass with your weirdly long fingers or go take our sheets down to the front desk.”

Shane’s out of his clothes and into the shower faster than he can blink.

Ryan’s waiting for him already; he’s pressed up against the tile wall with water sluicing down his body. Shane sighs contentedly at the sight and steps under the spray. He crowds against Ryan and seals his mouth against Ryan’s shoulder and sucks, reaching between their bodies at the same moment to slide two fingers into Ryan.

“See?” Ryan gasps. “We never needed a shampoo bottle, oh, _fuck_.” He presses his ass against Shane’s fingers. “That’s it,” he moans appreciatively.

Shane tucks his face against Ryan’s neck and fucks him harder. The water is only lukewarm and he might not have a dick of his own, but even Shane knows cold water is a mood ruiner. He covers Ryan’s body with his own and reaches around to his front and starts to stroke.

“Oh, _Shane_ , fuck!” Ryan’s head swings back and he nearly knocks into Shane. The collision is only prevented by Shane’s reflexes, and even then, only just.

“Try not to headbutt me,” Shane chides as he slides a third finger into Ryan.

Ryan mutters something that sounds like an apology and then he’s coming. His ass grips Shane’s fingers and his come splatters against the gritty tiled walls. He’s almost silent as he comes but his whole body undulates in Shane’s arms like a restless wave.

Ryan sinks against him as he finishes and Shane loops his arms around Ryan’s waist.

“Good?” Shane can’t help but ask.

Ryan nods. “Good.”

Shane grins and spins Ryan around to kiss him. It’s their first kiss in what feels like hours, and it stays heated even as the water crosses the line from okay into chilling. They wash rapidly, forgoing shampoo for obvious reasons, and stumble out of the shower together.

They take one look at the disaster that is their bed, still covered in shampoo and lube, and go to the little couch in the corner of the room instead. It’s a tight fit, and the fabric isn’t especially forgiving against bare skin, but it beats putting on clothes to deal with the sheets.

Shane lays down first, propped up against the arm of the couch with his feet dangling off the opposite edge. Ryan climbs practically on top of him and their bodies slot together with only a little difficulty, mostly from both of them still being wet. Ryan lays his head on Shane’s chest and sighs.

“So, you don’t, uh. Orgasm?”

Shane shakes his head. He combs his hand through Ryan’s hair. “Nah. I can feel lust, and pleasure, and all that. But I don’t need release. I like making my partners come.”

Ryan hums. “Huh. And you can’t just make a dick… appear, like how you make your other… otherworldly things disappear?”

“I mean, I could. It just wouldn’t feel like anything, cuz it wouldn’t be real. A lot of my physical form is hidden, but like… My body is still real. Just, altered.”

Ryan nods thoughtfully.

A beat of silence passes, then Shane works up the nerve to speak. “It doesn’t bug you?”

“What, this?” He reaches down and cups the smooth lines of Shane’s pubic mound, a touch that feels the same as someone touching Shane’s shoulder or something Ryan hums again, as if he’s thinking over his answer. Shane waits and only barely resists holding his breath.

Ryan shrugs eventually. “Nah.” He grins up at Shane, bright and wide. “That’s what strap-ons are for.”

Ryan’s really taking the whole my-boyfriend-is-an-angel thing _way too well_.

Shane just laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> almost titled this 'mostly a joke down here' because of the metatron quote, "The way I understand it, [sex] is mostly a joke down here, too."


End file.
